Good Cops
by fiesa
Summary: Kiera always knew what the ideal police officer was supposed to be like. Drabble- Kiera, Carlos. Roughly post-02x11.


**Good Cops**

_Summary: Kiera always knew what the ideal police officer was supposed to be like. Drabble- Keira, Carlos. Roughly post-02x11._

_Warning: Drabble._

_Set: Around, before and after 02x11, but no specific spoilers to that episode._

_Disclaimer: Standards apply._

_A/N: I don't know what to make of the latest episodes of the third season. I expected a lot, but not this. Now I'm wavering between disappointment and the hope that it will get better… But hey, maybe that's just me?_

* * *

"_That guy spells trouble but I think I know where to look for him."_

"_You should probably call Carlos."_

…

What Kiera would call her conscience always had been a silent voice. Almost too faint to be understood, it nevertheless spoke with a certainty that had saved her many times, guiding her in the right direction or influencing her decisions. But she had never called it _conscience _before. In her time, it had been a combination of tech and intuition and a deep-rooted concept of that she believed in and what she had been taught. As she had come to realize over the past year, though, things could be taught the wrong way. Beliefs could be indoctrinated and instincts could be honed into the wrong directions. It influenced their instincts and their actions, and sometimes it even was enough to overpower the voice of reason every human being possessed. In the time Kiera had spent in 2012 she had learned that there were people who had a conscience and people who didn't have one. And that the first option definitely was the better one.

It was an antiquated concept, and still.

_Think of it_, Carlos had told her. _Trust your guts. Trust me. _

And she did.

Now the voice was there. Her _conscience_. Talking to her, giving her unwanted advice, making her stop and hesitate. Swaying her decisions when it came to them. Making her doubt herself.

She didn't like it.

…

"_Is this the future you wanted, Kiera? A police force led by the corporations? Look at us. We're mercenaries, nothing else."_

"_We get the job done."_

"_But at what cost?"_

…

Dark eyes staring into hers.

Carlos was too close. Kiera backed away but his expression was already frozen in her mind, replaying behind her closed eyes. He didn't move when she took a step back and grabbed her jacket, didn't say anything else when she walked off in direction of the interrogation room. He just sat on the edge of his desk and followed her with his eyes. And she could feel them lingering on her every step of her way.

There was desperation in his gaze, too. Even when he was angry with her he still worried about her. It was terrifying.

And strangely comforting.

…

"_Where's Carlos?"_

"_Why are you asking?"_

"_I've gotten used to your shadow, I guess."_

…

When she thought of it, she saw it clearly. It was so simple, really, easier than anything else. There was an image of a good cop in her mind she had clung to her entire life. It was what had made her join the military, in the first place: the wish to protect. _Protector. _Police officer, protector – the basics were the same no matter where she was. A good police officer was a good protector was a good cop. A good cop was dedicated and loyal. A good cop fought evil and protected the good, caught criminals and helped the innocent. A good cop was allowed to be afraid, but he didn't let fear control his actions. A good cop was weak, sometimes, when personal pain and doubts crippled him. But he always got back on his feet. _Get up. Fail again. Fail better. _A good cop was driven, a good cop saw what was right and what was wrong and fought the wrongs in the world at all costs. But a good cop would never resort to illegal methods. A good cop was incorruptible and kind-hearted and fair. And, last, but not least: a good cop knew the system wasn't perfect. He knew sometimes the guilty walked and the innocent were convicted, and he fought it. But he never did so with illegal means.

Kiera felt a smile on her lips.

Had she known her ideal image of a police officer would have a name and a face one day she would probably have fallen in love with him.

Carlos was all of the above, and more. He was a good friend, too.

…

"_Carlos, I need your help. I can't contact Kiera."_

"_Where is she?"_

…

The rain was falling hard. Drenching her, running down her cheeks and her hands and almost managing to obscure her vision. As it was, Kiera still saw everything perfectly: the way Julien's hands trembled, the fear that stood in his eyes. The slight bruise on one of his cheeks. He'd have more of them tomorrow, a cool voice whispered in her mind, and he would have earned every single one of them.

This was not her conscience. Its voice was too quiet. The rain was drowning it out.

_Kill him._ In the future, Julien wouldn't hesitate to do what she had to do now. Carlos hadn't hesitated when he'd said he would go back in time to kill Hitler. She knew he'd die himself if it would only save someone. To him, Julien was a future ghost, a possibility. To her, Theseus was _real_. She shouldn't be hesitating at all.

Rain on her cheeks. A frozen image of her future, of her pain, her personal monster. Her son, so sweet and innocent, her sister, her mother. A way to save the world. The death of one man to save millions. A decision-

And Carlos, dependable as usual. His wet hair was plastered to his face. His hands did not shake at all, his voice was calm and steady. Sometimes she wondered-

…

"_Don't do this, Kiera. This isn't you. I know it."_

"_You don't know me."_

"_Yes, I do."_

…

Sometimes it felt like he was the only thing stopping her from going insane, going mad the same way Lucas had. Carlos was _there_. He helped her, covered for her, even turned his back and shielded her – both metaphorically and literally – when it was necessary. He'd already as much as taken a bullet for her. He'd said they were partners and he'd _meant_ every word of it. She could see it in his eyes. It was strange and it was crazy and it was _wrong_ on so many levels. On so many others, it was _right._ Whatever happened, Kiera knew she could rely on him. Would always be able to. Even when her moral compass went off-track and started spinning wildly, he kept her on course. He definitely was the better person of the two of them.

When had Carlos become her conscience?

…

"_Don't you die on me."_

…

She means it every time she says it, and more often than she can voice it.


End file.
